


The Trigonometry of Photography

by Agnes_Bean



Category: Community
Genre: F/M, M/M, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agnes_Bean/pseuds/Agnes_Bean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie still can’t believe she’s even asking the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trigonometry of Photography

**Author's Note:**

  * For [htbthomas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/htbthomas/gifts).



> Written for htbthomas for the Write for Relief fundraiser, for the prompt "shenanigans, group project, charity." Huge amounts of love for my beta, bookcat, who’s generally great, and is particularly amazing at figuring what I’m trying to say, but better. As always, feedback of all sorts is appreciated.

Despite her brief fit of "live in the moment by running away to Delaware" madness (really, _Delaware_ , what was she thinking?), Annie's a big fan of lists. Sure, some parts of life can't be boiled down to pros and cons, but laying out your feelings in a clear, enumerated order can be enlightening.

Not that she ever, ever expected to be dealing with this particular problem. Still, she thinks, throwing herself across her bed and opening a notebook, if lists helped her get through her Adderall addiction, there's no reason they can't help her with this. She uncaps a purple pen.

But — here she pauses as the pen presses into the page, leaving its first mark. If she writes the title (and she always titles her lists), that means she's actually considering this. Which is...well, whatever it is, she's already thinking about it. No point in living in denial. So, she writes:

 _The Pros and Cons of Pursuing a Relationship With Both Troy and Abed, Even Though It's Certainly Not What a Nice Jewish Girl Does, and the Group Would Probably Flip._

Okay, so her titles are normally a little more concise than that. Then, so are her problems. She closes her eyes, sighs, and starts, carefully trying to untangle how she started asking herself this insane question in the first place.

***

 _  
**Pro: They like me.**   
_

"Annie, would you like to take photography with us?"

Annie jumped, realizing that Troy and Abed had slipped up on either side of her as she walked down the halls. Sometimes they could be shockingly sneaky.

"Photography?"

"It's on Monday and Wednesday nights, it should be easy, and we need a third for the group project," Abed rattled off, clearly prepared for her questions. Troy nodded along, smiling widely.

"Why me?" She asked, suspicious. There had to be a reason they couldn't get anyone else to take the bait.

"It's at night, so Shirley's out. Pierce is Pierce. Britta probably thinks photography's a great way to explore the patriarchy, and after the pottery incident, we don't really trust Jeff anywhere near the art department," Abed answered, ticking off his fingers.

"So I'm your last choice?"

The boys exchanged a look Annie couldn't read.

"No," Abed finally said. "You're our first choice."

***

 **  
_Con: Do I still have feelings for Jeff?_   
**

"So," Jeff said, putting down his tray and sliding into a seat across from Annie. "I hear you're taking Photography."

"Yes, that vicious rumor is true."

Jeff studied his salad for a bit. When he looked up his eyes were soft in a way he seemed to reserve just for her ( _Did he look at Britta that way when they slept together?_ Annie always wondered). "Does that mean your schedule's full?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Awkward silence. Very awkward. "I was, uh, hoping you'd take chemistry with me."

Annie's heart skipped a beat. "Oh? Why me?" The question came out more intense than she meant it to.

Jeff shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Greendale has, in its infinite wisdom, decided I need another science credit, even though I know for a fact lawyers don't need to know any science. And even at this toilet, a class with extra lab sessions every week is probably more effort than I want to expend by myself, so —"

"You need me to help you study," Annie finished, cold. From his hurt expression, it was clear that wasn't really it, that what he really wanted was to spend time with her, but come on, why couldn't he just _say_ that? "I already promised Troy and Abed."

"Right. Yeah. That's good. You'll have fun."

She clenched her fists as he slumped away, digging her nails into her palms to stop herself from yelling that she'd changed her mind.

***

 **  
_Pro: We have fun._   
**

Their first assignment was simple: take pictures of the same face in several different kinds of light, paying close attention to the shutter speed and aperture. Not exactly fun, but the point was to learn some method before they launched into madness.

"This is very thorough," Annie mused, analyzing the assignment sheet as they settled into the study room. Honestly, she was impressed. There were steps, and instructions, and explanations, and all sorts of details, as if she'd stepped into some bizzaro world where Greendale was a real college with legitimate classes.

"Is that Annie talk for 'boring'?" Troy groaned, eyes glazing over as he tried to take it all in. "I thought we were gonna take pictures of naked chicks."

"No, that's figure drawing," Abed corrected.

"And that's not taking pictures, it's drawing them," Annie added. "And it's for expanding your skills, not...ew."

"It would be better than this," Troy insisted, unapologetic. "Abed, you said photo would be _fun_."

Abed titled his head and squinted at Annie. After thirty seconds of silence, Annie realized that this must be Abed for _I don't know what to do right now, please help_.

"I think this _will_ be fun," she ventured.

"How?"

"Um..." She ran her eyes over the assignment. "Well, it doesn't say _where_ we have to find the different kinds of light..."

And that's how they ended up breaking into the cafeteria kitchen on a Thursday night, posing with spatulas and hairnets for their florescent light pictures.

Troy found a giant spoon and waved it in her face. "Come on Annie, lick it!"

Annie knew she should be flustered (because, um, _Troy_ was asking her to lick a giant spoon, and that was a little too close to the kind of attention she’d once dreamed he’d give her), or maybe offended (because, _gross_ ) but instead she just swatted it away with an easy laugh. " _You_ lick it."

He did, then Abed waggled his eyebrows and they all laughed. And somehow she kept laughing all night, even as they sprinted away from a furious, mop-wielding janitor.

***

 _  
**Con: They're distracting.**   
_

"Troy, you're in my light." Annie kept her eye pressed to the camera, trying to find the perfect angle to capture the existential angst of a single, lonely pill floating in a glass of water. It was their first _real_ assignment: to capture an emotion. Annie was diving in head first, ready to tackle the pain of her days in rehab straight on. Well, as straight on as metaphorical imagery gets. Anyway, she was determined to transform her personal anguish into beauty, like a proper artist.

Of course, that would be a lot easier if Troy didn't keep running into her frame as he zoomed across the study room, rainbow kite dragging behind him.

"What are you even doing?" She finally burst out, lowering her camera in a huff.

"Trying to fly this kite for Abed's picture."

"But...we're inside."

"That's the point," Abed said from the other side of the room. "My emotion is frustration."

"Oh." It was a very Abed take on emotion, but definitely a striking image. Potentially poignant, even. Annie sat back and watched as Troy ran in circles and Abed snapped away, a little jealous that she hadn't thought of it first.

Twenty minutes later — after Troy had fallen twice, ripped the kite once, and finally collapsed in a pile, groaning (Abed leaned over him, nodded to himself, and took a final shot) — Annie remembered she was supposed to be perfecting her own masterpiece, and shooed them out, insisting that Abed could do handstands for Troy's picture anywhere.

"You do understand that 'upside down' isn't an emotion, right?" She called after them, vaguely wondering why she was sad to see them go.

***

 _  
**Pro: Sometimes Troy knows exactly what to say.**   
_

_Clichéd... Overexposed... Boring... I don't get it._

Annie sprinted to the bathroom as soon as their first critique was over. She slammed into a stall, leaning against the door and trying to keep her sobs silent — exactly the way she’d spent far too many lunch periods in high school.

What had she expected? Praise? To be the Rich of photography class? _Well, yeah_ , she realized. She'd really tried, and sure she'd never claimed to be particularly artistic, but this wasn't just art, it was school, and that's the one thing she's _always_ good at.

 _Chin the eff up, Edison._ (The voice in her head was half her own, half her sponsor's). _Pull yourself together and fake that smile ‘til it’s real._

It only took five minutes to calm the dry heaves, to steady her breathing, to wipe away the tears on the inside of her sleeve where no one ever noticed. She splashed water on her face and slipped out of the bathroom.

"Hey."

"Wha — Oh, Troy. Hi." She looked down, hoping her eyes weren't too red or puffy. Not that Troy would notice, probably. He wasn't exactly observant — Abed was observant enough for the both of them. Troy, on the other hand, Troy was...what? What was he even doing lurking outside the bathrooms?

"You forgot the new assignment," he said, handing her a sheet of paper.

"Oh." She took it but didn't look.

"I really liked your picture. It made me sad, but in a good way." She glanced up and he was staring at her with a half crooked smile, all honesty, arms open. She collapsed into his warm hug. He rubbed her back, and, okay, fine, maybe one bad photo wasn't really the end of the world. And maybe it wasn't even entirely bad.

Troy might not be observant, but sometimes he really gets it.

***

 **  
_Con: Sometimes Troy is really, really stupid._   
**

"So we have to take a picture with all three of us in it?"

"No, we have to all participate in the creation of a series of pictures around a common theme," Abed repeated, an edge of boredom in his voice. Annie found herself wondering, not for the first time, how he remained so patient with Troy.

"Like we'll all take pictures of clowns?” Realizing what he’d said, Troy’s eyes went wide and his head began darting around wildly. “No, no clowns. Guys — no clowns!"

"Nobody said anything about clowns," Annie assured him.

“Well, Troy did, just now,” Abed pointed out, not at all helpfully.

Annie rolled her eyes. "Fine. The assignment doesn’t say anything about clowns. It's more about the metaphorical theme or unifying imagery than the subject, anyway."

Blank stare. "Do we all take the _same_ picture?"

Annie caught Abed's eye, but he just quirked up his mouth and shrugged, as if to say, _Your guess is as good as mine_. Right. Annie smiled back. Maybe with their powers combined...

"Okay," she sighed. "Let's start again from the beginning of the assignment."

***

 **  
_Pro: Troy and Abed are made for each other, and it's really cute._   
**

"So, since the basketball team is required to get longer shorts before the next season, we'll be auctioning your group projects off to raise money."

Annie's hand darted into the air, her heart fluttering.

"Ms. Edison?"

"Auctioning to who?"

"Anyone who wants to come, I suppose."

Annie nodded, mouth dry. Her critiques had been getting better, they had. Last week, someone even called her picture of a car engine _evocative_. Evocative was good. Evocative could maybe be turned into an A, definitely an A- if she continued her upward curve. But evocative wasn't "show it to the world and have them put a dollar value on it" good.

When she turned to Troy and Abed, they were already intensely focused on one of those rapid-fire conversations of theirs, the kind where they talk with their eyes and their hands and the tilt of their heads, but not ever with words. The kind that always ends with their special handshake and — yep, there it was.

Then Abed flipped open his notebook, and started scribbling, Troy gesturing over his shoulder and grabbing at the pen. Abed ripped out the page and slid it over to Annie.

 _We're going to get the highest bid_ , it said in Abed's precise writing. _Promise_.

It was signed: _Abed Nadir and T-Bone._

***

 _  
**Con: Troy and Abed are made for EACH OTHER. Do I fit in?**   
_

"Flying."

"Space."

"Emptiness."

"Tupperware."

Annie was starting to regret suggesting playing free association to come up with a theme.

"Laughter."

"Yo-yos."

"Tricks."

"Ninjas."

"Kick-ass."

" _Kickpuncher_."

" _Kickpuncher_?"

" _Kickpuncher_!"

Handshake.

"You guys, _Kickpuncher_ is _not_ a theme," Annie shouted, desperate. She was met with two confused stares.

"Who said it was?" Abed asked, genuinely confused. "We're going to watch it later."

"I..." But she didn't really have anything else to say about that. "I’ve never seen it."

The boys looked at each other and nodded. “Correction,” Troy said. “We’re going to watch it right now.”

Halfway through the movie, Troy and Abed shouted "FROZEN" at the same time, for absolutely no reason whatsoever. But it was the best idea yet, so Annie just nodded.

***

 _  
**Pro: Abed's...Abedness.**   
_

Normally, the three of them went to the darkroom together, to chat or quiz each other about anthropology or recite movie lines to pass the time as they labored over developing their photos to perfection (well, Abed and Annie shot for perfection. Troy aimed for not painfully overexposed). But sometimes when Troy was at football practice it was just her and Abed, and then it was quieter. Really, what did they have to say to each other? Abed didn't understand gossiping, he didn't really need her help studying, and she could never keep up with his rapid fire pop culture references.

It should have bothered her, but their silence felt companionable. It gave Annie a chance to relax, to focus entirely on her work, the gentle bubbling of the constantly flowing water tank (used for washing finished prints) lulling her into a kind of trance, like meditating. They could go for an hour or longer without talking, but the time just seemed to slip away.

On those days, she sometimes found herself watching Abed, fascinated by the precise way he grabbed photos in and out of the developer after exactly the right amount of time (even though he never seemed to look at the clock), or the way his eyes got sharp and darting as he examined a finished picture, comparing the actual result to some ideal he had floating in that bizarre mind of his.

Occasionally his eyes would snap up, catching her studying him. But he never mentioned it. He'd just go back to whatever he was doing, or maybe make a brief suggestion about Annie's work (he was always right on, he really did have an artistic eye). Annie didn't get it — most people would say _something_ , or at least make a face, or just _react_ somehow — but, then, she wouldn’t watch him like that if he were most people. She appreciated that he didn't disrupt their peaceful balance over a little staring.

It didn't take long for her to start looking forward to those quiet afternoons.

***

 **  
_Con: Sometimes Abed is really, really odd._   
**

Annie was perusing the photography section in the library when an unexpected hand on her arm made her jump. It was Jeff. Oh. His hand lingered; she resisted the urge to shrug it off.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," he said.

"Yeah," Annie agreed. "I've been really busy with photography."

"Wasn't that supposed to be your blow off class?"

Was it? She supposed it was. Oops. "That was before we were auctioning off our projects for charity."

"Um...what?"

"Well, for the basketball team."

"Oh. They've really got the whole school working on that one."

"Yep." They shared a small smile. Oh, Greendale. “So…how’s chemistry going?” she added, to avoid the dreaded awkward pause.

Jeff shrugged. “It’s fine. Pierce almost froze his hand off trying to prove liquid nitrogen is safe. That was fun.” Oh no, there he went with that look again. “Not as fun as it would have been with you.”

And, yeah, there was the awkward pause. What was Annie supposed to say? _Sorry, but I’m having way too much fun hanging out with Troy and Abed to regret not taking chemistry with you?_

"Well," Jeff finally said. "Don't work too hard. We miss you."

He meant _I_ miss you. Once, it would have made her swoon, but now she mostly felt annoyed. She appreciated the sentiment, of course, and her heart was beating a little too fast. But she had work to do; she didn't want to feel guilty about not spending enough time with the group, and certainly not about not spending enough time with Jeff.

"I won't," was all she said. For a moment, she thought Jeff was going to add something else, but he just squeezed her arm and walked off. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"You're better off without him."

She squeaked and whipped around, trying to figure out who was there. Of course it was Abed, staring at her between books from the other side of the shelves. "Abed? Were you spying on us?"

"I wasn't spying, just listening."

"It's the same thing!" His expression didn't change, no sign of guilt or embarrassment. Annie sighed. "Abed, it's not polite to listen to other people's private conversations."

"I know."

"Then why — "

"You're better off without him."

"I — " Wait, what did he even mean by that?

"You wouldn't work out. Convention says he'll either wind up with Britta, or graduate single, ready to face the world as a changed man. My money's on the second option."

Annie remained silent. Sometimes she couldn't tell if Abed actually thought real life worked like TV, or if he just disguised his insights in the language of clichés because that seemed safer. Either way, she found she didn't mind this particular comment as much as she probably should have.

Abed blinked at her through the books, expression still blank. "You deserve better," he said quietly. "See you in the darkroom," he added, voice normal again, before slipping away.

What was she supposed to make of _that_?

***

 _  
**Pro: Adventures.**   
_

They were pressed together in a janitorial closet, three human bodies pushing into a space meant for, well, brooms. Abed's breath was steady and warm against the side of her neck, his arm twisted around her waist, reaching to pull Troy close into her other side by the sweater.

 _Why_ did they think breaking into the chemistry labs was a good idea, again?

It was actually her run-in with Jeff that inspired the idea: if they had liquid nitrogen, they could freeze anything. Immediately she'd thought of all the beautiful photos they could make — frozen flowers and leaves, water and candy — and stupidly she'd told Troy and Abed. She'd meant it as an idle idea, but of course they couldn't let it go. And then, doubly stupid, she'd let them talk her into _breaking into the chemistry labs_.

And so here she was, hiding in a broom closet, can of liquid nitrogen tucked beneath her jacket and oh god, if they got caught, she'd be expelled, wouldn't she? She could hear the security guards in the hall, running and shouting, not giving up their search.

Yep, she was going to be expelled from _community college_.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"Who? Me or Troy?" Abed's breath tickled against her neck. She shivered, surprised for a moment.

"Both of you."

"Hey! I didn't — " Troy's exclamation was cut off by Annie's hand across his mouth.

"Be _quiet_."

"Annie, if you went out there and played the Decoy Damsel, you might be able to distract them," Abed suggested.

Seriously? This again? "I'm not bait." She could feel Abed and Troy nod at the same time, and she couldn't help smiling, just a little, at their psychic link.

"We'll wait," Abed agreed. "They normally get bored after a while."

Normally? How often — nope, never mind. She didn't want to know how many times Troy and Abed had ended up shoved too close together, hiding from campus security. If waiting would really work, fine, they'd just wait.

She shifted a little, leaning back against Abed and moving her hand off of Troy's mouth, resting it on his shoulder instead. At least it was warm, squeezed between them. Warm and...nice. Um, really nice. Well, other than the broom digging into her side.

"If we don't get an A on this project, I _will_ kill you," she warned them.

There was no way she was admitting this was the most fun she'd had in ages.

***

 _  
**Con: It's not...normal?**   
_

"And so now Leonard and Starburns have to help clean the blackboards every day after class. Like _elementary school_." Shirley was in total gossip mode, stories coming rapid fire in her high, gleeful voice.

"That's hilarious." Annie smiled, glad she'd agreed to this lunch. She'd needed a break from the darkroom, and she'd missed the chatter about people and feelings, all the details that Troy couldn't keep track of and Abed didn't care about.

Shirley nodded, but she paused before finally continuing on. "So...you've been spending a lot of time with Troy and Abed."

Annie nodded, suddenly tense. Could Shirley possibly know about the strange feelings that kept tugging at the back of her mind, the kisses that she denied imagining to herself? No, no way. "What about them?"

"Are those two really just friends?" Shirley asked, shifting uncomfortably. "Not that it would be a problem, if they weren't. Judge not — "

"Yes," Annie cut in. The last thing she wanted was to hear Shirley's thoughts on Troy and Abed's theoretical relationship, not when she was feeling, well, feelings that Shirley would find even less acceptable. "As far as I know, they're just friends."

For now, a small part of her brain said. For now.

Shirley smiled, relaxing. "That's nice."

Annie managed not to cringe, but just barely.

***

 **  
_Pro: We're unbeatable._   
**

"SOLD for $50!" The Dean cracked down his gavel. "Highest bid of the night!"

Annie squealed and pulled Troy and Abed into a group hug. "We did it!"

"We told you!" Troy declared, bouncing a little. "Your thing with the nitrous was totally genius," he added, slipping his arm around her waist and squeezing. Annie couldn't resist leaning against him for a moment, resting her head on his shoulder. Yeah, really nice.

"Liquid nitrogen," Annie corrected automatically. Abed pulled away from the hug, but he caught her eye at that, and gave her a small, private smile that made something in her stomach flutter.

"Whatever. The point is, it was all your idea." Troy gave her another squeeze. "You were good too, man," he added, letting go of Annie to do his handshake with Abed.

"It was a team effort," she said. "We're a good team."

***

 _  
**Who cares about normal?**   
_

Annie stares at the last line. It's not a pro or a con, it's the heart of the problem. Because she's pretty sure if she went for it, the boys would too (after all, she can be very persuasive. Debate champ, Disney eyes, girl parts — yeah, she’s good). She looks back over her list. Her cons just aren't very bad, are they?

So there it is, the real question: does she, Annie Edison, care about being normal? Before Greendale, before her breakdown, back in high school, the answer would have been totally, unequivocally, _yes_. (It's ironic, she realizes, that back then, Troy was a symbol of normalcy for her. Oh, Greendale). But now...

She looks around her room, at the hard won furniture, the dumpster curtains. She knows that in her dresser there's a sweatshirt memorializing a paintball war, a toy car still covered with scorch marks, a wig she'd worn to a _Pulp Fiction_ birthday party.

 _Not me_ , she writes.

 _Forget about normal._

She flips the notebook closed and rolls over, staring at the ceiling, a smile creeping across her lips. Yep, lists are definitely useful.


End file.
